Blackbirds at Night
by shimmer2
Summary: A story about Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny and what they deal with as Voldemort rises to power and how it brings them closer.
1. Singing in the Dead of Night

A/N: Hey, I know, long time, no fic. Hehe. I hope you all really enjoy this one! And, please, review, it makes me so happy! Blackbirds is a song by the Beatles if you were wondering. Tons of thanks to Christine, Kara, Melissa ,and Katherine, thanks for all the encouragement and suggestions!  
  
~*Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life*~  
  
  
  
Ron flipped idly through the large book, not really concentrating on anything. The flames danced happily in the fire, and he thought about just throwing the whole book into it. He knew he should be studying , but History of Magic was just so boring. Especially the blue period, why do I need to learn about the centaur revolution of 1346? Why is it called the blue period in the first place? I wonder what were having for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe some buttered toast, or maybe some of those really good- His wandering thoughts were soon interrupted as Hermione came in through the portrait hole, laughing with Harry. Ron watched as Harry put his arm on Hermione's shoulder, making them both crack up. Ron felt a twinge in his stomach, as Hermione doubled up with laughter sent an air kiss towards Harry. When they finally neared him, Ron, trying to seem casual, asked, "What's so funny?" Harry looked at Hermione, who was batting her eyelashes at him, and burst into more laughter,  
  
"All of Gryffindor-,"  
  
"some Hufflepuff's too," added Harry, still laughing.  
  
"They think Harry and I are a couple!"  
  
"That's funny," said Ron, trying trying to figure out what the feeling in the pit of his stomach was. The night progressed and soon Ron had forgotten about the incident, but the feeling in his stomach still lingered.  
  
"I'm going up too bed, it's way too late," said Hermione shutting her Rune Dictionary with a thud.  
  
"Sounds like a-," Harry yawned, "plan, sweetheart." he said with a perfectly straight face.  
  
"I'll see you in the morning, snufflypoodles." Said Hermione, who didn't even crack a smile.  
  
"Snuffypoodles?" asked Harry, bursting into laughter. Ron felt that twinge again as he forced himself to laugh along with them.  
  
"G'night lovebirds," said Ron sarcastically, rolling up his parchment and heading towards the spiral stairs.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione was still awake, yet tired, as she lay under her covers, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts meandered around obscure topics, as they do at night, before finally landing on Victor.  
  
It's so weird that they thought that, I mean everyone knows I'm with Victor.  
  
  
  
Victor, we haven't seen him since August  
  
Well, letters.  
  
  
  
Yea, I guess  
  
  
  
  
  
He is my boyfriend  
  
  
  
  
  
If that's what you want to call it  
  
  
  
  
  
What do you mean?  
  
  
  
  
  
We haven't seen him since August, we only write, he lives miles and miles away.  
  
  
  
  
  
That's rubbish  
  
Banishing the thoughts away, she snuggled deeper under the covers, clutching the white owl stuffed animal that Victor had given her , tightly. She smiled, the Quidditch jersey she had 'stolen' from Victor that she was using as a nightshirt still had that Victor-smell. Sort of like pine trees, and winter. That's rubbish, she thought one last time, before she fell into a dreamless sleep. 


	2. Moment to Arise

~*You were only waiting for this moment to arise, Blackbirds singing in the dead of night. Take these sunken eyes and learn to see*~  
  
Hermione poured over the large textbook, pausing to take notes every so often. She had four big exams the next day, and she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She hadn't slept at all last night, it was past midnight and it was beginning to catch up with her. Her hair had been put in a messy bun, and every so often a stand of hair would slip out annoying her to no end. Quill poised, she read the next page, hoping it wasn't about Uric the Oddball, she already knew most of what he did. "Grindewald was the most powerful dark wizard of his time, he is best known, however for his hatred of Muggle-borns. Grindewald was responsible for many deaths of Muggle- borns, justifying this to his supporters by saying they were inferior." Hermione sighed, and closed her eyes for a minute. Then shocked that she had wasted valuable time, she ripped open another book and started searching desperately for more information.  
  
"Hermione?" She jumped and let out what could only be called a squeal.  
  
"Ron, you scared the-, I really need to study, I can't do badly on this, I'm still a little fuzzy on the Cheikidum Curse, and I need-, I can't, there's so much-," Hermione ran a hand through her hair, looking very frantic and very stressful.  
  
"Hermione, you have got to calm down," said Ron, looking into her eyes.  
  
"No, I can't, I need to study,"  
  
"Why? You're the smartest witch in the year, you just need to relax,"  
  
"I can't!" she said, her voice breaking. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to blink them back.  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong? You know you'll ace them! It's alright." His blue eyes filled with concern, and he gently shut her book.  
  
"I have to pr-p-prove them wrong," she gasped, tears now falling freely.  
  
"Who?" Ron didn't know what do to, he had never known what do to when people cried, when he was little he always hugged his Mum, but now, he hadn't the slightest on how to comfort one of his best friends.  
  
"The-them,"  
  
"Hermione, who's them?" He felt so helpless; he didn't know how to make her stop, stop crying.  
  
"Them, Wha-when they say Muh-muggle-borns are inferior and, b-before that, I wa-was always just weird, a- and ," she gasped and put her arm around Ron, crying into the folds of his robes, " They ne-ever thought I was g- good enough, I need t-to prove them wrong, I need to-,"  
  
"You'll always be tops to me,"  
  
"Oh Ron!" said Hermione looking up, and wiping away her still falling tears, "Youre just so-, so you," He laughed.  
  
"Is that a good thing?"  
  
"Yes, Ron, it is." They sat like that for a long time, Hermione's head buried in Ron's robes, still crying softly, while Ron comforted her the best he could.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry stood on the top of the hill, watching, the wind brought the acrid burning smell into his nostrils. The town below him was entirely engulfed in flames, people were screaming. He watched, his legs unwilling to move, the hooded wizards cackling and pointing their wands at small children, and then there was more shrieks of pain. A tall dark figure appeared from the midst of the flames and advanced on a cowering women. Harry tried to run, tried to help, but he was rooted to the very spot. The tall figure lowered it's hood, and grabbed the bawling woman by the neck. "No!" Harry shouted, but it did not help. The dementor had already preformed it's fatal kiss. More killings, more crucitus curses, more destruction. Harry looked around for a sign, where was this? Finally he spotted a sign, flames licking it's edges, "Platibella". Above the town, the Dark Mark shone and glinted in the smoke filled sky, but in it another Death Eater raised his wand and simultaneously four toddlers were killed by a jet of green light. Behind him, he heard a voice. He turned quickly, and behind him he saw none other than Lord Voldemort. Harry's scar felt like it was on fire. Voldemort turned to a fellow death eater, sounding pleased with himself. "This was pleasant wasn't it? Oh, but Hogsmeade will be much more fun, Dumbledore won't know what hit him. Then we'll move on to that Muggle loving fool's precious school." He let out a cold high laugh.  
  
Harry woke with a start. The dreams had been occurring more frequently now. His head felt as if someone had just plunged a dagger into his forehead. He leaped out of bed, holding his scar, and raced down the spiral stairs. He didn't even notice Ron and Hermione who had fallen asleep in each other's arms. Running through the common room, pushing open the portrait hole, and continuing down the hallway, Harry had but one thought, Get to Dumbledore. 


End file.
